


Good Intentions

by orphan_account



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Blood, Canon Disabled Character, M/M, Mild Gore, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 10:55:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4874092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ocelot has good intentions. It sure as hell doesn't seem like it to Kaz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting around in my computer for a long time. I hope you enjoy it.

Motherbase got much colder once the sun went down. With nothing to block it, the wind off the ocean became a strong, steady force of cold air. The waves frothed, and the water became an unreadable dark blue as the sun’s heat failed. Kaz felt the cold most deeply where his flesh ended and the prosthetics began. He felt it deep in his bones, a vibration in an empty tunnel. The scarified tissue chafed beneath the metal and plastic, despite Huey’s designs to make it more comfortable. A blank moon rose in the east, and the dark sky met a stark line of orange that was uninterrupted by clouds or stars. All the seabirds were gone, and every soldier had retreated indoors, away from the chill of the wind. In short, there was no reason for Kaz to remain outside, where there was no one to see and nothing more to look at. He saw a flash of red far out by the very edge of the metal platform, where the base met the sea. He gripped his cane, turned, and walked back to the door. He refused to look any more at the place where he knew a man with blood red gloves and a red scarf would be.  


Inside, the base was dimly light and nearly silent. The only noises audible were the shifting sounds of the massive structure, and the increasingly faint sound of the surf. The air inside smelled like sweat and a faint human smell that Kaz attributed to recent passerby. He slipped through an open doorway, his cane tapping rhythmically on the floor. He paused just outside of a large metal door, listening for voices, before going inside. Closing the door behind him, He relaxed in the darkness, finally alone. He was in one of the base’s dining areas, a secluded space with an adjacent kitchen. A single window along the far wall showed the darkening sky. He slumped down in one of the cheap plastic chairs, letting his cane fall against the table. Kaz knew how to avoid the rest of Motherbase’s occupants. He fit himself seamlessly into the shadows, avoiding critical eyes. More and more often, Kaz found himself hiding, unwilling to put up with the gazes of soldiers, or the way he felt when he was left behind while his boss went on a mission. Kaz couldn’t even stand to be around Snake, who he respected and cared for the most. Snake made him feel like a broken tool, as if Kaz was one of his favorite guns which could not be repaired. Snake’s pity burned him from the inside out, instilling him with self-hatred and a rage that left him bitter. Even though being reunited with Snake was all Kaz wanted ever since the coma, nothing felt right anymore. As much as he cared for the man, perhaps now more than ever, Kaz felt a distance between them that he found impossible to cross.   


A faint noise caused Kaz to tense up. When he recognized telltale clink of metal spurs and footsteps, he cursed internally. He held his breath, hoping that the other man would keep walking, past the door and away from Kaz. Contrary to his hopes, the footsteps came closer and halted. Suddenly the door opened, and the light switch was thrown, the room flooding with bright light. Kaz hissed, his hand fumbling while he quickly put on his sunglasses. Ocelot gave a mean chuckle, and Kaz glared at the source of his discomfort. It was hard to see his face- the harsh lights put it into shadow. He closed the door behind him and sauntered into the room, walking an exaggerated path through empty chairs and tables.  


Kaz kept silent, his eyes on his hands. He refused to give any attention to Ocelot. Kaz knew better than to engage in his showiness, the obvious theatrics that the Russian man loved. Whatever the man could want from him, Kaz was certain it wasn’t anything he was willing to give.  


“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Miller?” Ocelot inquired, with a voice smooth and dark like liquor. “Perhaps you have some papers to sort, some recruits to look after…” Ocelot neared Kaz, idly tracing circles on the surface of the tables. “Or do you really have so much free time that you choose to spend it sitting alone in the dark?”  


“What did you come here for?” Kaz growled. He was in too dark a mood to suffer through Ocelot’s usual bullshit.  


Ocelot looked sideways at Kaz, a look that could be considered innocent from anyone else. From Ocelot, that look was something tainted and devious, like a laugh at his expense. Kaz knew he was in trouble. The harsh scrape of a chair being dragged away from a table almost made him wince, but he didn’t show any signs of emotion when Ocelot sat next to him, deliberately close to make him uncomfortable. “I heard that Huey has some new projects. His creations are quite useful, both here and on the battlefield. Still, I worry that he devotes too much time trying to fix things that have no hope of being saved.” Ocelot’s tone was casual, but he knew better than to take it at face value. Kaz hated this- he hated how Ocelot had to draw everything out, turn everything into a game and laugh at his every mistake. So he gave into it, turning to face his tormentor, giving Ocelot the attention he wanted.  


“I don’t see how that has to do with me,” Kaz said darkly, glaring at the man across from him. “Unlike you, I know when to stay out of other people’s business.”  


Ocelot kept smiling. “I know of at least one project he has that concerns you.”  


Smoothly, Ocelot took out a pair of sunglasses identical to the ones Kaz was wearing. With a demure smile, he put them on, holding them to his face with his gloved hands like someone trying out a new fashion. Kaz growled, “You tortured Huey just to steal my sunglasses?” Kaz was confused, but he had a feeling in his gut that he was missing something.  


“I had no idea you needed prescription lenses, Kaz.” Realization dawned on him. “I can barely see in these,” Ocelot taunted. “But that’s something you can relate to, I’ll bet.” Ocelot laughed. The sound itself was enough to ignite the anger in Kaz’s chest, roaring out of the dark gulf of rage that gnawed at his insides and rushed through his brain.  


It was as though someone had pulled a pin out of a grenade. Before he could even register it, Kaz lunged at Ocelot, not feeling the way his prosthetics bit into his skin, not acknowledging Ocelot’s laughter. Ocelot darted away before Kaz could get his hands on him, blindsiding him with a kick that struck his jaw with incredible force. What made it worse, what made it so much worse was the fact that Snake probably had those glasses for made him, probably as a gesture of kindness which made Kaz feel even more useless. Then there was Ocelot, who was there to laugh at him, to throw salt in his wounds, in full knowledge of his humiliation. And Kaz had nothing to lose, not even pride or sanity as he spit the blood from between his teeth and charged at Ocelot once more.  


This time Ocelot didn’t dodge. Ocelot stood his ground and intercepted Kaz’s punches, using his momentum to land a sharp punch to his gut. Kaz raged against the pain, grabbing Ocelot’s neck with both hands. Ocelot fought back viciously with punches and kicks, making Kaz’s breath hitch with pain. Ocelot was deceptively strong and a master of CQC, and Kaz felt his grip weaken. Ocelot broke away, and Kaz caught a glimpse of a grin before Ocelot was charging at him, sweeping his legs from beneath him. Kaz hit the floor hard, his back taking most of the impact, and Ocelot was right on top of him, legs on either side of Kaz’s waist. They traded punches, Kaz blocking and lashing out. Ocelot suddenly grabbed his arms, pinning them down with an iron grip. Kaz now saw it- the manic energy that Ocelot maintained, now an expression of rapture and violence that split his face in a smile. Kaz had never seen him like this, so uncontained and wild. Blood fell from his lip and smeared from his nose. “Well Kaz,” he breathed, his voice sounding slightly strained, “Are you going to stay marinating in self-pity after this? Are you going to sit in the dark and pretend you aren’t going blind?”  


Kaz roared, smashing his forehead against Ocelot’s already broken nose, but the Russian still held firm. “What the fuck does it matter to you?” Kaz howled, trying with everything he had to get the other man off of him.  


“Don’t give me that shit,” Ocelot insisted. “You think we saved your sorry ass from Afghanistan just so you can rot away? So you can sit around and do paperwork?” Ocelot’s bloody nose dripped onto Kaz’s shirt, and he could see the blood on his lips and teeth. Kaz raged against Ocelot’s grip, trying to shake loose like a man possessed. Ocelot sneered. “You’re a soldier, or did you forget?” he spat. “You’ve been sheltered for too long… it’s time to let you out of that cage.” Ocelot suddenly released one of Kaz’s arms, only to pull out a knife, and with quicksilver speed, plunged it into Kaz’s left hand. Kaz screamed in pain, feeling the knife tear into his flesh. Finally, with herculean effort, he wrenched Ocelot off of him and staggered to his feet, bringing his wounded hand in front of him-  


And seeing nothing but plastic and metal. He flexed his fingers. They moved with metal joints and fasteners instead of tendons, and there was cold plastic instead of warm skin. There was no blood from where the knife pierced the prosthetic, no nerves to sense the pain. Kaz stood, dumbstruck, as Ocelot lay where Kaz left him.  
“How are you feeling now, Mr. Miller?” Ocelot asked, his voice raspy from his bruised throat.  


Kaz stared at him. He clenched his left hand into a fist. Then he unclenched it. The air around him lost its tension as Ocelot slowly propped himself up on his elbows, back on the ground.  


Kaz stared blankly, feeling far away from his own body. His anger was gone, but his heart was still racing with adrenaline. Ocelot reclined on the ground, a small smile on his face as blood dripped from his nose. “Do you feel better?” he purred.  


Kaz realized that he did feel better, the revelation hitting him harder than any punch he’d taken before. As much as Kaz despised and distrusted Ocelot, sometimes it seemed like he was the only one who treated him like an equal, like a man that was whole instead of broken. The way he didn’t pull any punches or hold back his biting remarks was respectable, in a twisted way. Maybe it was the excitement of the brawl, or the fact that the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach was gone, but it didn’t surprise him any less that he walked over to Ocelot and pulled him to his feet.  


Now that the conflict was over, Kaz wasn’t sure what to do with the appraising look Ocelot was giving him. Ocelot raised his arm slowly, and tapped the bridge of Kaz’s nose. “Your sunglasses,” Ocelot explained to Kaz’s look of shock. “They’re gone. I rarely get to see your eyes.”  


“How do they look, then?” Kaz asked gruffly. “Is it easy to tell that I’m…?”  


Ocelot shook his head, avoiding the meaning of the question. “You dwell too much on what you’ve lost,” he lamented.  


“What else is there?” Kaz replied, startled at his own honesty.  


“What you could have.”  


Ocelot’s eyes were burning into his. It was such an obvious move to Kaz, but the blood on Ocelot’s face was doing funny things to Kaz’s heart rate, and when Ocelot licked it from his lips it did funny things to his libido. Kaz should have rejected the urge, especially when he knew Ocelot was manipulating his every move. But Kaz wanted to hold on to the feeling, the wild rush of freedom and exuberance that made him forget his scars and dying eyes. So he held onto Ocelot’s arms and asked, “What now?”  


Ocelot took Kaz’s left arm into hands, and brought it to his face. He leaned into the prosthetic, nuzzling his cheek into the palm. His eyes were narrow and his smile looked like sin incarnate. Ocelot didn’t even have to speak before Kaz dove into a violent kiss. He tasted blood on his tongue as he demandingly pressed it against the other’s lips, and it was everything he wanted and needed. He brought his other arm around Ocelot’s waist to pull him closer. Kaz knew he had fallen headlong into a trap, that he’d been manipulated perfectly, but he lost all sense of caring when the Russian opened his mouth and deepened their frantic kiss.  


Ocelot broke away before twisting to bite at Kaz’s bruised jaw. Kaz groaned, pleasure and pain twisting and coiling together. Kaz fisted one hand in the other man’s long pale hair, yanking his head back. Ocelot gave a satisfying yelp before Kaz attacked his neck, ripping off the red scarf and ravishing the soft skin underneath with hard bites and licks. The needy sounds he made in response made Kaz achingly hard, and he crushed their bodies closer. Grabbing at his shoulders, Ocelot began to tear off Kaz’s coat and started working his hands underneath his shirt, pushing his hips up and making his arousal clear. Kaz took his mouth away from Ocelot’s neck and pushed the other man, backing him up against the steel countertop of the kitchen. The Russian was fast to unbutton Kaz’s shirt and flick apart his tie, smoothing his leather gloves across Kaz’s chest. Kaz caught his hands and ripped the gloves off, ridding Ocelot of his clothes in between powerful kisses.  


Ocelot leaned forward and undid Kaz’s fly, pressing his bare hand to his erection. Kaz hissed at the sensation, barely keeping himself from rutting against it. Ocelot looked at Kaz with heavy lidded eyes, his lips slightly parted. “What do you want?” Ocelot asked breathlessly. His broken nose made his speech sound a little more thick. He brought his mouth to Kaz’s ear, hot breath preceding seductive words. “How do you want me?”  


Kaz growled low in his throat, his instincts taking over his every thought. Roughly he pushed Ocelot against the counter, the Russian’s noise of surprise driving him mad with lust. He grabbed at his belt, and soon Ocelot got the hint and quickly undid the buckle. Ocelot sat back on the counter, Kaz furiously gripping at his hips, his arms, and kissing him sloppily on the lips. Ocelot struggled to kick off his boots with Kaz between his legs. When his pants and underwear slipped free of his legs, Kaz redirected his attention to the pale skin of his thighs, kissing and biting the smooth skin until Ocelot was hissing with pleasure beneath him. “Get the lube. In my pants,” he gasped. “Look in the left pocket.”  


Kaz would have normally thought twice about the convenience of Ocelot sauntering around with lube in his pocket, but soon the thought of it, Ocelot being ready at any moment to be fucked, made him dizzy. Kaz grabbed the bottle and looked up at the exquisite way Ocelot had positioned himself, legs spread with one knee bent, stroking himself. There was the imprint of Kaz’s hand wrapped around his neck, the white skin turning red. He met Kaz’s gaze and beckoned impatiently. Kaz took his position, spreading lube on his fingers. Kaz pushed in slowly with a single finger, keeping his eyes on Ocelot’s face the whole time. Ocelot growled, hooking one of his ankles around Kaz’s back to pull him closer. “More,” he demanded, his expression as haughty and fierce as it was during conflict. Kaz swore and pushed the other man back, but before he knew it Ocelot pounced on him, kissing him harshly and dragging him onto the floor.  


Kaz found himself on his back, and was about to put up a struggle until Ocelot pressed a hand to his chest to keep him in place, the other hand stroking Kaz’ dick. Sliding his knees up until he was straddling the other’s waist, Ocelot carefully positioned himself over Kaz’s hips. With perfect accuracy he arched his hips and slid onto Kaz’s hard cock. Kaz groaned low in his throat, reaching to grab Ocelot’s hip as he sank lower and lower. He barely had enough control not to buck his hips up as he watched the Russian gasp, taking in the entire length. He stilled for a moment, eyelids fluttering and lips apart.  


Ocelot’s muscles were smooth and taut, and his skin had a fine sheen of sweat. It pleased Kaz to see him so disheveled, so unashamedly expressive. He grabbed Kaz’s arm. “Fuck me now,” he urged him.  


Kaz put his hands on Ocelot’s hips, and thrusted up in harsh, short strokes. Ocelot put his hands on Kaz’s chest, bending forward as he took it. He clawed at Kaz’s shoulders, and met his rhythm with ferocity. Kaz felt like he was burning as he watched Ocelot ride him, loving every second he made him come apart. He thrusted his hips harder, trying to get more leverage, until he found an angle that made the Russian cry out in ecstasy.  


“That’s it… There… Harder!” Ocelot lost the ability to speak as Kaz pounded into him. Kaz abandoned any pretense of holding back and fucked as hard as he could. Ocelot responded with enthusiasm, his knees bruised from hitting the floor. There was still blood on his face, and Kaz could feel the bruise on his jaw pulse with every heartbeat. Ocelot grabbed the back of Kaz’s neck and kissed him desperately, panting for breath through his bloody nose. He smashed their mouths together once more before he lost himself to orgasm. Kaz bit into the kiss, letting out a long groan as he came, still keeping a bruising grip on Ocelot’s hips.  


Utterly exhausted, Kaz fell back onto the floor. Ocelot all but collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily. Blood started dripping out of his nose again and he swore. He raised himself up, trembling just a little as Kaz slid out of him. Kaz was surprised when he rolled to the side and laid back next to him. The cold floor felt good on his overheated skin. He took in the sight of Ocelot’s chest rising and falling, the satisfied expression on his handsome face.  


Once he caught his breath, Kaz sat up, rubbing his aching jaw. “You know, Ocelot,” he muttered, “There are easier ways to get laid.”  


Ocelot smirked. “Is that all you think I was doing?”  


“I don’t know what you’re doing,” Kaz admitted. “I don’t think you know what you’re doing, either.”  


Ocelot laughed easily, his voice raspy and low. Kaz felt a spark leap into his gut, and he didn’t know if he was more surprised or disturbed by it. He was getting cold, and his prosthetics began to feel heavy. Ocelot was smiling, looking far too smug for someone in his condition.  


“There’s blood on your moustache,” Kaz pointed out.  


Ocelot gave him a dirty look.


End file.
